


Strip Off Those Work Clothes, Relax A Little

by xaviul



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Pale Prostitution, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 05:21:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16717263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaviul/pseuds/xaviul
Summary: You find the milk tea, and two taps of your finger sends in the order- charged directly to your chip, of course. But two cups of milk tea is pretty cheap, cheaper by far than what you’re being charged per hour for her company. It’s promising, to you. Some trolls just wanted to wring out their pay through getting patrons to buy fancy foods and drinks for as long as they can. Mildlull intended to make her money, you assumed, through the premium prices that actual piletime pulled in.Perfect.Sweet docks in to harbor, and unwinds with the local bordello.





	Strip Off Those Work Clothes, Relax A Little

**Scrapper Sweetlip | 17 Sweeps | The Dustbowl**

There was nothing like a life spent out in space, traveling wherever you wanted and where there were ships to scrap.

Nothing, that is, except for when you pulled in to port and got away from your crew for a few nights.

You loved your merry band of the best scrappers in Alternian space! They were practically family, your little ragtag bunch, just like your Rickshaw had been. That felt like an entire lifetime ago, rather than six sweeps, but in a way you suppose it was. You’d barely had the egg slime dried behind your ears when Scrapper Heatweld had come down to your Rickshaw for the metal scraps you sold so cheaply.

It had been a way of living, sure, but even as a little scamp you’d wanted more. And when Heatweld had appreciated your skill and offered you a life among the stars it had seemed like a no-brainer to pack Gutwyrm up and take them up on it. With your Blueblooded strength and Gut’s technical know-how, you could have had it good just on that alone.

But, you marvel as you pull the fur of your coat tighter around your neck, you had still wanted more. Heatweld had been so lazy! So focused on their own gain rather than the crew’s, and blind to the growing resentment you’d all felt when they had the lion’s share to themself. The best ship, the biggest parts of the sale, it all went to them. And for what?

It had been the best for everyone involved that you had culled them and taken the wheel. Sure, some had taken some time to warm up to a fourteen-sweep old in charge, but you’d grown up scrapping. You knew what the Rickshaw had always done and it was so easy to transfer it over to space.

Less leviathans ready to snap up an unsuspecting ship too, you note. You’d deal with aliens any night over that.

The HMS Reshaping-of-the-Remains-of-Our-Vanquished-Foes-That-Were-Beaten-to-Dust isn’t the best station you’ve been to, but it isn’t the worst either. There’s a certain amount of fondness for it, really, and in the history of it. You’d been told once, back when you were younger and so curious about everything, that it used to be a station of glory- rife with hostile life earlier in the nights of conquest, the Alternian fleet had taken them all to heel and had done away with anything with a pan enough to ever try to rise up against you.

Back then, you guess, it was more of a novelty to come across an alien force and wipe it out. On a planet mostly unspoiled by its original colonizers, your race had taken it over practically overday. Like locusts, you’d stripped it bare and mostly moved on to other planets as more and more habitable areas were discovered. Only the location of the outpost more commonly known as The Dustbowl kept even this small shipport town alive, used as a convenient docking point for ships heading back from deeper space towards Alternia proper.

And like any proper shipport, most of the thriving businesses were catered towards those coming in from long stints out in the cold of space. The road you walk down is sparsely populated the pavement cracked but still manageable by the few vehicles that pass down it. Around you is a chaos of colors and moving patterns, down in the business sector- graphene used for both building and for advertisement, turning every surface of a building in to space to try and draw a dwindling population in to keep a business alive.

It made your destination easy to pick out, even though the garishness might have been unappealing to some trolls. But you knew this outpost like the back of your hand, and the over the top displays it pulled out had always delighted you. And why shouldn’t it? You just fit in so well, after all. Eyes were always pulled to you no matter where you went, for one reason or another. Those unused to Rickshaw trolls were always confused by your markings that dappled your face in both lighter and darker patches. Past those, there was always the shocking navy of your hair, bold with a fresh layer of dye added to it just nights before, or your shining glory. Trolls always looked at your horns with some mix of admiration, envy, or sympathy- but like you told Gut, sometimes the Mothergrub just had to make up for all the nubby-horned souls she spat out, and you were the result.

(Mostly, you just wanted to get some sort of a reaction from them. What was the point of having a right-hand troll if you couldn’t rib at them whenever the mood struck you?)

Add in the white furred collar of your jacket, and you were a sight that any troll with functioning eyes would want to take in. So when you walked towards the building with its bright pink exterior that fluctuated with sparkling diamond symbols interspersed with the images of the trolls waiting inside of it, it was with full confidence. A troll had needs, after all! And this troll needed to unwind with a soft pile and some equally soft palms.

The entryway is mostly clear, dressed up in pinks and whites. There’s a troll playing security in the corner, but other than giving you a look-over when the door slides open for you, they don’t seem particularly interested. That suits you just fine, because you know what you’re here for. You’re pretty sure for the right price, someone would pap you down from a fight with the bouncer! But you’d had enough fighting without dragging it into the night.

A particularly fluffy sofa was beckoning you towards it, and you flop in to it in a sprawling of limbs. The material gives way around you just slightly, and the way your body relaxed in to it let you know there was sopor in it- just enough to help take the edge off of anyone keyed up and waiting for an appointment, but even without that much of an edge you can enjoy the sedation as you reach for the familiar tablet laying on the table in front of you. A flick of your finger is enough to power it out of the sleep it had been left on, and you get to admire the logo of looped together diamonds as you wait for it to load.

Bless technology, it doesn’t take long before the night’s roster pops up. There’s even a sorting system, though you don’t bother with it in favor of manually scrolling down the quick blurbs about the workers at this fine establishment. The portraits of the trolls you’re looking at are even colored to let you know their status, with the green ones being available as soon as you request them, the yellow meaning they’re soon to be available and the red currently on break or with another client.

Your finger paused over a familiar face, the ring around his portrait so invitingly green. Softhush was apparently his working name here, but you hadn’t really paid attention to his name last time. You hardly ever did! It was just poor manners, trying to get too close to the workers. All you remember was you had left the building far more relaxed than you had come in to it when you’d last picked him, and the dear had gone and cooed at you when you had checked the pile for weapons.

You hope he didn’t take it personally that you wanted a bit of variety, you think as you skim past him. You could have just left your selection empty and gone on inside, but you preferred having a bit of control over the trolls that came to your table. It just wasn’t fair to have them all get their hopes up when you’d only be taking one of them to a pile after all. Your eyes catch instead on another troll further down, and you press on her picture until her information popped up for you to view.

Mildlull isn’t the best name you’ve seen in your sweeps, and you instantly disregard it to focus on her stats instead. She had a high ranking from other clients, and the list of what she wasn’t willing to do matched just fine with the things you certainly didn’t want to do with a pacifying partner. You arrange for your appointment, and as soon as you enter your credit chip and your specifications the app gives you a number. Tablet still in hand, you pull yourself from the comfort of the couch to head in to the next door, flashing the number to the bouncer as you pass by them to enter the main room of the business.

The lights are dimmed around you, an attempt to maintain the illusion of privacy for the customers like you as much as the thin screens they keep partitioned between the tables. It’s not too busy, the murmur of conversation a low buzz around you as you search for your seat. The workers are easy to pick out, the pink of their shirts a clear signal- they lounge at the fringes of the room in clusters, watching to see if anyone comes in without an arranged partner. As soon as you sit at your table their attention leaves you, and in their place comes your partner for the night.

“Hey there darling,” you purr for a greeting, standing as she dimples at you. Quite literally, and it’s cute enough that part of you preens at your excellent tastes as you steps towards her. She doesn’t shy from your touch as you run a hand up her arm, taking in the warmth of her- a high olive, the color of her eyes probably just a few shades too low to be considered a Jade by any cavern. But it did give her a certain appeal in this line of work you were sure.

“It’s so good to meet you,” she tells you as you keep your hands moving. You’d mentioned you needed to search her before you got any further, and that she had showed up meant that she didn’t have any complaints as you checked her over for any hidden surprises. You kept it quick, and when you were finished you both sat down to look at the tablet you had left on the table. The number was gone, and in its place was a menu.

With the sort of place you were at, the seats were on the same side of the table. Mildlull was close enough to feel the heat of her as she tucked her skirt around her, eyelashes fanning low as she looked up at you. She was just the sort of type you always preferred, so soft and defenseless looking that it just inspired all those protective cavetroll urges in your hindbrain. This was just what you needed, you think as you flick through the menu.

“What do you want, honey?” You ask, words as sweet as your name. “I’m a troll of many tastes, but why don’t you order for us, hm? Something light for the both of us.” It’s an offer and a test all at once, to figure out what you’re working with. You give her a smile as you angle the menu closer to her, and in response her lips pursed just a bit before she laughed. “Aren’t I supposed to be the one spoiling you?” She chides, and her hand is warm on your arm despite the admonishments. “But why not a milk tea for the both of us? I don’t think we need anything else, do you?”

Oh, so she figures you’re an old hand at this. She’s asking you something that a troll new to this might have missed, asking if you need something to help loosen you up for the night. Some trolls just needed a bit of a nudge, to get over their nerves! No matter how much you paid a troll they were still a stranger at the end of the night, and some trolls fretted over that no matter how many rules were in place to make sure the workers kept the secrets they were told. But you weren’t just any troll and she seemed to know it. “Some actual tea sounds good to me right about now,” you decide, flipping the menu idly as you keep your eyes on her. “Been drinking nothing but the powder stuff all perigee, less trash to clutter up the ship when we’re traveling.”

You find the milk tea, and two taps of your finger sends in the order- charged directly to your chip, of course. But two cups of milk tea is pretty cheap, cheaper by far than what you’re being charged per hour for her company. It’s promising, to you. Some trolls just wanted to wring out their pay through getting patrons to buy fancy foods and drinks for as long as they can. Mildlull intended to make her money, you assumed, through the premium prices that actual piletime pulled in.

Perfect.

“What sort of business had you so far out?” She asks you, mild, and the hand on your arm rubs in a soft circle as she looks up at you. It’ll be easy to lose yourself in the fantasy tonight you think, and your smile softens out as you set the menu away. “Nothing too dangerous, don’t you worry about that- I work with ships. Gotta travel to wherever the work is, so I’m a, like, whatever you call a globetrotter on a universal scale, I guess.”

“You must see so much,” she murmurs, and oh- she’s good. You lean in closer to catch her words and she smiles at you for it, green eyes crinkling at the edges in a way that reads as genuine. Maybe it actually is- her bio had said she was 13, but that didn’t mean she had been in this business long enough to be burnt out by the constant woes of her clients. You were used to more veteran workers, but this was… Cute, you think.

“I know the inner workings of every ship model they got out there at least,” you reply with a wink that gets a giggle from her, and as you unwind you feel yourself moving a bit closer to her. The arrival of your drinks is just a momentary distraction, but the waiter is quick about putting the cups down and hurrying away to not ruin the moment. “It’s even pink,” you remark as you straighten up to reach for your glass, chilled just enough that you’re able to take a sip immediately. Actual tea will just always be superior to the stuff you carry in bulk for travel, even if it takes up so much more space. Fortunately for you, you’ll be docked long enough to get your fill of it. And of the locals, if they’re all like Mildlull.

“Then what’s got you coming to a place like this?” She asks, picking up the slack of you previous conversation and sliding right in to work. She moves her hand from your arm to take her own cup and your arm just feels cold for a moment- until she slides close enough to lean her side against yours to make up for it, still dimpling up at you. “You seem tense, so far. Not just because you needed to pat me down for weapons, either…”

She trails off, expectant that you’ll take the hook she’s offering. So instead you drape one arm around her, not taking it personally when she tenses up at first before she relaxes. Instincts are a hard thing to ignore even if she knew that the bouncers lingering about would put a halt to you if you started making a fuss. All it took was one right blow to her before they got over here, after all.

Not that you’re that sort of patron! But it’s all part of the risks of her job that she needed to try and avoid. A few pumperbeats later, she relaxes when it’s clear that you’re doing nothing but seeking a bit of physical comfort. Even better, she shifts to lean her cheek against the fabric on your shoulder, angling her head just enough to show the expanse of her neck and throat. It’s the sort of image that would send all but the coldest of pumpers fluttering, and you aren’t ashamed to say you’re one of them.

“You’re so observant, I’ve got a stressful job out there in space. Got a crew of my own, is the thing, and some nights it’s like I’m trying to herd cats trying to keep them in line and have them get anything, like, actually productive out? Like space isn’t hard enough on its own when our job can have us picking through wreckage and debris of ships, hoping that whatever downed them isn’t hanging around to see who comes to clean up the mess, but…” You sigh, setting down your tea. Mildlull mimics you, as you’d hoped, so you take the moment to tangle your fingers together and pull the laced hands towards your mouth.

You do it gently, slowly enough that she could pull away if she wanted. There’s a hitch to her breath, and her eyes are wide as she watches you- but she let you bring her hand to your mouth. You press a cold kiss to the back of it, as brazen as you dare to get with her right now. Putting your mouth near her wrist would have earned you whatever hit she gave, but that’s alright.

You know in a few hours you’ll be relaxed enough in a pile with her that she’ll feel safe to let you do whatever your mood takes you, and you’re eager enough for it to wait. Well… “Perhaps we could take this somewhere more private,” you suggest as you drop your hands, giving your most charming smile as you do. You weren’t that patient a troll, after all.

Luckily, Mildlull could sense it. She pulled her hand from your’s, raising it against your cheek in the briefest of strokes before she stood to take both of your wrists. She knew she had you now, and you don’t balk at the warmth of her fingers against your pulse when she returns your smile.

“Relax, and let me take care of you now,” she commands, and you’re happy to just nod as she pulls you to your feet. You knew this was the right choice to make, and your smugness at your decision follows you as Mildlull leads you away.

The cherry on top, you think, is when instead of just cooing at you like Softhush, she helps you search the pile, happy to hold items after you root through them for any weapons.

You’ll definitely come back again.


End file.
